You know how you have those days when you feel that nothing is going right, everything in fact is going wrong wrong wrong? Well, here it is not even 6 a.m., and I’m already having that day. I’m feeling crabby. Very very crabby. What can I say? I feel like griping about stuff. Anything and everything.
I awoke this morning to find a lovely pile of cat vomit awaiting my (luckily) slipper-clad foot as I stumbled all sleep dopey (and frankly in need of the facilities) from the bedroom toward the bathroom. There was a precarious moment of near slippage that shook off some of the sleepiness. But then I realized what had happened, and sigh. What can you do, though? Part of owning cats is embracing the vomit. Not literally. If you don’t have cats and are thinking of getting some, know that they puke. A lot. Oh, that’s just hair balls, you’ll hear owners say. Yeah, sure, whatever. Since when does hair have bits of kibble and stomach acid in? Oh, and while on the subject of impending cat ownership, do not ever under any circumstances buy the cat kibble with the little red bits in (these can be seen in the picture on the front of the box or bag), you will regret it the very first time your cat throws up on your creamy white rug. That red dye doesn’t come out. Ever.
Also playing a part in my dark mood and crankiness is my laptop; I’ve been whining around 360 about its shutting down on me, disappearing all my very best writing (no doubt), and generally being uncooperative. I need to get it fixed. And that means no computer, which in turn means no 360. The withdrawals are already happening, increasing with each shut down, and I’ve yet to take my laptop to the fix the laptop people. It will cost more in labor than the part will cost (I think I just need a sink fan. Again.), and that upsets me no end. But I can’t do it myself and have to pay.
I don’t understand how I can have a perfectly clean pair of pants / trousers one second and the next be covered from ankle to low rise waist in cat hair. Without sitting on anything or even brushing a piece of furniture that might be harboring little furs. Do they float around in the air?
Why why why do people insist on looking askance at me just because I’m talking to myself? I mean, really, like no one else does that! And it’s not like I talk in a normal, clear voice, I kind of mutter to myself in stores (mostly), wondering where I might find that product or the other thing I need. Yet people insist on staring.
Why would anyone read my page and think that I’m interested in meeting up for sex? Is there anything on here anywhere that would give that impression? And while I’m on the subject of 360, I know we all gripe about it, but people are still sending out those stupid canned invites, and they are still doing it with no blog, no profile, no nothing. Or with all that hidden. Yeah, right, I want to be your friend, O ye of the secret content and weird paranoia. Not. Gaaaahhh!
I simply hate being in the shower and running out of hot water.
Why would anyone put an empty box of cereal back in the cabinet? You know how you get a taste for something, think you have it, then go for it, and it’s gone . . . just an empty box?
And one last thing that used to make me crazy. I love to watch the television show Cold Case (you know the one with the blonde with the messy hair, and they flash back in time to cover the case and at the end the ghostie of the dead person/people shows?), but it’s on Sundays, and when there’s a game (I think it’s football, but who cares what the game) and it runs long, they bumped everything back. So if I was trying to tape Cold Case, I got the last half of 60 Minutes and the first half of Cold Case. I stopped watching it. Seriously, that bugged me.
Okay, I feel better. The sun is coming up, and I’m in the mood for a good long walk in the park. Yay!
The first pic is of one of my favorite and most hated eye shadows. It’s called “penny” and is indeed a lovely coppery color (not sure that shows up in the pic); it stays on the lid forever and has a lovely shiny thing going on. The only thing is that it somehow manages to end up where it doesn’t belong, smudging under my eyes–not all under like big circles, just near the bottom lid and in the corners. And that’s annoying. And strange looking.